


Sweet on You

by MiniRaven



Series: Fluffy Food AUs for the Soul [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Food Service, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - World War II, Developing Relationship, Donuts, Euphemisms, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food Metaphors, Food Trucks, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot, POV Tony Stark, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-02 15:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18813550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniRaven/pseuds/MiniRaven
Summary: It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.





	Sweet on You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sweet-tooth [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19012741) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette). 



> Or the spiritual successor of "Bagel Shop of Hotness" where one person works in food service and the other is so horny that the start making food related euphemisms. Quick warning, there's a little bit of historical homophobia in the first section, but once Steve and Tony get talking I promise it’s cavity inducing sweet.
> 
> Big thanks to Hayluhalo who betaed this like forever ago. I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> And one giant thanks to Cachette for making such beautiful art for me. I can't fully express how much I love it, so please share some love with them by commenting or sharing their beautiful work. I love you so much and it's been my honor and pleasure to work with you over these past few months.

 “Oh my god. Tony, he’s back!” Janet Van Dyne squealed.

“Who?” asked Tony.

“Don’t look you idiot,” Jan said, physically shoving him Tony the back of the food truck. “He’ll see you.”

“Who’ll see me?”

“Your regular.”

Tony rolled his eyes. He bent down under the fryer and resumed his maintenance check on the various valves and knobs that were inevitably loosened during the long drive over the European mountainside. “Jan, need I remind you that we are a mobile donut truck for the military. We go from military outpost to military outpost with the goal of lifting these men’s spirits through food. We have no regulars.”

“Yes, we do. See?” she said, dragging Tony back to the window. She pointed past the crowd of military men to a group of seven that had isolated themselves off from the normal riff raff.

Tony squinted his eyes. The seven men were huddled together in a tight circle discussing something amongst themselves. They reminded Tony of the women at his uncle Howard’s extravagant parties. Ladies dressed to the nines who would religiously gather around the fireplace to discuss the latest gossip about who was having sex with who. Minus the expensive wine of course.

Their uniforms were tailored made to their body type, fighting style, and personality. A luxury reserved for those who went on top secret special op missions. From the collar of their jackets all the way down to their boots, these men’s uniforms were made out of a light, yet durable fabric that ranged from earthy brown to green all the way up to blue? Really? Red, white, and blue? On a military uniform? Whose bright idea was that? Sure the man’s blond hair was so eye catching that even Tony couldn’t ignore it, but that was no excuse for a ridiculous looking uniform. If you’re going to slap the American flag on an active military man, might as well have the guy carrying a giant target on his back saying ‘shoot me.’

“See what?” asked Tony.

Jan rolled her eyes. “The Howling Commandos. We gave them donuts a few months ago when we were running around France. Remember?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Jan. We met a lot of people in France,” said Tony, feigning ignorance.

“Oh come on, Tony. Don’t act like that. Not everybody is lucky enough to have the Howling Commandos swoop in and rescue them from an ambush,” Jan said with a suggestive nudge.

Tony hummed. “Well, I suppose they do look a bit familiar.” That was an outright lie. Tony remembered them the instant he saw them. Hard to forget a rag tag group with some bigger than life personalities. Epically the blonde in the tight, blue uniform.

It was just like Jan said, a few months ago the donut truck got ambushed as Tony, Carol, Jan, and Natasha made their way into central Europe. Their truck had gotten stuck in the mud when a small troop of German soldiers jumped out of the bushes and ambushed them. The enemy had gotten in a few good shots in when a mismatched group of Allied soldiers swooped in to save them.

Not that they really needed saving. All combined, Tony and the girls took out more than half of the enemy soldiers, but the sentiment was appreciated. After chasing away the enemy, the Howling Commandos helped the girls push the truck out of the mud and back onto the road. The girls took the opportunity to fawn over the very attractive men while Tony secluded himself off to make a quick batch of donuts to say thanks. The two groups exchanged stories about their adventures and then went on their merry way. Tony drove off thinking he’d never see the nice men again. At least he did until now

“Still not seeing what they big deal is, Jan,” said Tony, finding it hard to tear his eyes away from the group. “We’ve met before. So, what? Doesn’t make them a regular customer. They probably don’t even remember us. Don’t see why you’re making a big fuss about it.”

Jan’s mouth dropped in in disbelief. “Are you joking? How can you be so blind?” she squawked. “The guy you were eyeing up when you passed out donuts, the guy who couldn’t say more than three words to you without tripping over his own feet; the _leader_ of the Howling Commandos, he’s looking for you.”

Tony frowned. Red, white, and blond was looking for him? Really? Why would he be looking for Tony? He didn’t like Tony. Or at least, Tony didn’t think he liked him. When Tony offered him a donut to say thanks, the blond barely said anything. He just took the donut, muttered a quick ‘thanks,’ and walked to the other side of the truck without another word.

Tony would have been offended if the captain wasn’t so cute. And yes, Tony did stare at that ass for longer than necessary as he walked away. But that didn’t mean Tony was stupid enough to hope.

“You’re seeing things again, Jan,” said Tony because someone had to stay grounded in reality. “There’s no way he’d be looking for me.”

“I don’t know,” said Jan, a sly smile on her face. “He’s been sneaking looks at our truck ever since we got here.”

Excitement flickered in his chest, but Tony quickly snuffed the feelings out. No use in hoping for something that wasn’t there. Tony turned his attention back to the fryer and began busying himself with last minute kitchen checks. “Everybody’s looking at our truck. We brought food. Free food. Everybody loves free food.”

“Not this guy,” Jan insisted. “Natasha, Carol, and I all had our turns working by the window. He barely looked at us. But now, he’s clearly checking you out.”

Tony stopped. His hand hovered above the stove top. “Excuse me?”

Jan grinned. “Mister tall, blond, and beautiful is looking at your right now.”

Tony’s head whipped around. He bent down to get a clear view out the service window. Sure enough, American flag guy was staring right at Tony. Their eyes locked for just a second, but that was more than enough for Tony.

Tony’s face flushed red and like the coward he was, Tony immediately ducked behind the steel counter. “Holy shit, Jan,” Tony hissed. “Why did you tell me he was looking this way?”

“Why not? He’s clearly your type. Blond hair, tight ass, legs for days, and those muscles, god damn,” she groaned. “I’d kill to have him wrap me in those arms.”

“Screw him being my type. That’s not the point, Jan,” Tony hissed.

Jan gasped. “Oh wait, is he blushing?”

“Jan.”

“Oh my god he is!”

“Jan!”

“Hey!” Natasha banged on the open back door of the truck. “We got hungry boys out front. What’s the hold up?”

Jan squealed. “One of the Howling Commandos has a crush on Tony.”

“He does not!”

Natasha cocked her head to the side. “Are you talking about red, white, and beefcake? I walked by them a few minutes ago. Can confirm, they’re talking about you.”

“Will you two just shut up for a moment,” hissed Tony. He pulled Natasha into the truck and slammed the door behind her. Jan squeaked as Tony pulled her away from the window and out of sight from curious onlookers.

“Look,” Tony said, his voice tight as he tried to contain the panic rising in his chest. “I know you two don’t get it, but can we please keep quiet about my romantic interest. Yes, you guys are okay with me bedding men. Not everybody else is. The only reason I can get away with it here is because nobody cares what I do in private. There’s a war going on and nobody has the time nor the energy to care.

“But right now we’re surrounded by ears eager for gossip. A lot of bad things could happen if the wrong person finds out that I like men. So, can we please not talk about this until after we’re on the road?”

“But-”

“Please, Jan,” Tony begged. “I don’t want to get kicked out of the Red Cross for being gay. I can’t go back to making weapons with my uncle. I just can’t.”

The joy on Jan’s face disappeared. Her shoulders slumped down as the excited energy drained from her body. “I’m sorry Tony. It’s just… I forget sometimes. We’ve been with each other so long, I forget that not everyone is like us.”

Tony closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh of relief. “It’s fine. Mistakes happen. Just be careful, okay?”

Jan nodded. “Of course. I just got so excited thinking he might ask you out. I didn’t stop to consider what might happen if things went bad. I’m really sorry, Tony.”

Tony smiled. “Thanks, Jan. That means a lot coming from you.” Tony turned his attention to the red headed woman. “Natasha?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Natasha said. “And if anyone did say anything bad about you-”

“Please don’t murder anyone,” Tony interrupted. “We have enough to deal with as is.”

“Who said anything about murder?” Natasha asked, the innocent look on her face masking deadly intent. “I’d never murder anyone on purpose. Not that you’d be able to find enough evidence to prove otherwise.”

“Right,” Tony said, shifting himself a few steps away from the deadly woman. Natasha was a good person and Tony trusted her with his life, but sometimes when she smiled, a voice in the back of Tony’s head told him to run away as fast as he could.

“In any case,” said Tony, desperate for a change of topic, “ I’ll get the fryer going so we can start feeding the boys outside. Natasha?”

“I’ll knock the dough back and have a dozen donuts cut out and ready for the fryer in five minutes,” Natasha said as she rolled up her sleeves.

“I’ll tell Carol to round us up some customers and be back in a flash,” chirped Jan. She opened the back door of the truck. Just as she was about to step out, Jan paused and turned around.

“About before, just between the three of us; I bet Tony half a pack of cigarettes tall, blond, and beautiful asks for him before we leave.”

“I second that,” said Natasha.

Tony held back and exasperated sigh. This is what he got for working with gossipy women. “You don’t even smoke.”

Jan laughed. “It’s not for me, silly. It’s for gambling. Someone’s got to remind these boys what a real woman is like.”

* * *

 Dusk had fallen by the time the last soldier had received his greasy and possibly under cooked donut. Tony wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand as he turned off the heat to the fryers. He took a quick look around the kitchen as he wrapped up the leftover dough. Flour and grease speckled the floor like spots on a dog. Tony let out a tired sigh. He had a heck of a lot of cleaning to do before he called it a night, but right now his feet, ankles, and knees all felt like they were on fire. Tony needed a break.

He hobbled over to the service counter and leaned out the truck window. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to remember this; a strangely peaceful evening in the middle of a war-torn country.

Jan and Natasha were on the makeshift dance floor, currently entertaining the drunken soldiers as an old phonograph played music from a more innocent age. Jan was dancing to her heart’s content with three guys filled to the gills with alcohol. Natasha was engaged in an intense game of poker and, by the look of her pile of coins, booze, cigarettes, and other shiny trinkets, she was winning. Carol had found a quiet corner, away from the rambunctious noise, and was in deep conversation with a man who looked shell shocked. Tony couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he recognized the signs; twitchy fingers, bloodshot eyes, a general instability to calm down. But with each understanding nod, the man looked calmer and Carol’s smile grew bigger.

Their work wasn’t always pretty, but Tony was glad the girls were enjoying themselves. He felt occasional stings of jealousy whenever a soldier touched one of the girls in a place that was more than strictly platonic, but it wasn’t because he was interested in them as bed mates. They were all fine women and dazzlingly in their own way, but Tony thought of them as friends. He didn’t want to have sex with them. Honestly, I would be easier if he did.

Tony was jealous of the attention they received. He wished other men would look at him that way. Hell, Tony wished _he_ could look at other men that way without having to worry about getting fire and ostracized. Sure, Tony was fine with sex behind closed doors or blowjobs in back alleys. He could make do. But it would be nice to enjoy the simple things in life. Nothing big, Tony wasn’t that delusional, just small, simple gestures. The stuff girls took for granted; awkward flirting with someone you like, holding hands, standing under the moonlight wrapped in each other’s embrace, those type of things.

But it would never happen. At least, not as long as Tony worked for the army. It was impossible to pursue anything that went beyond a one-night stand. Or, at the very least, ill advised.

In such close quarters, lips were loose and ears were always listening for gossip. Tony had to monitor his actions every second of the day if he didn’t want to get discovered. And there was no guarantee Tony’s interest would be returned if he found someone who caught his eye. He hoped, but one could never be too sure.

Okay, fine. Yes, Tony thought Captain flag was very attractive. A man in uniform with a kind smile and an adorable blush, how could Tony say no? But he wasn’t obviously gay. During their brief interaction, he hadn’t dropped any hints or shown any signs that he was into men. If Tony wanted to ask the Captain out on something akin to a date, he need to come up with a fool proof strategy to seduce his target. What would be the best way to capture his interest? A flirtatious smile? A subtle sexual innuendo? The possibilities were endless, but so were the risks.

When and where would it be appropriate to drop casual questions or hints about his romantic interest? Here at the base? At the bar on a 24 hour leave? Was he interested in Tony? Was he even interested in men? What if he didn’t want a relationship? What if he just wanted a roll in the hay? Could Tony do that? Of course he could, but that didn’t mean Tony wanted a single night of fun. With all these questions running around in his head, Tony didn’t even take into account the biggest and most important question of all.

How much time did he have?

How much time did Tony have before the donut truck had to move to the next army base? They never stayed in one place for more than a week. Sometime they stuck around for a mere three days. Sometimes one. Could Tony attract and woo a legendary American soldier into the back of his car in less than one day? Impossible. The numbers were against him no matter how hard he tried to make it work. Tony would have to be either very brave or extremely foolish to try something as risky as that.

“Um, excuse me?”

Tony turned his attention away from the dance floor. He was about to say something like, “Sorry. I was busy destroying my fantasies about asking this really cute guy I might like out on a date,” but when he got a look at the customer, the snarky remark disappeared.

On the other side of the service window was Captain American flag himself. He stood at parade rest, shoulders back, clumps of blond hair stuck out from his head at awkward angles. The moment their eyes met, the man smiled. It was one of those small smiles that lifts up only one corner of the mouth. It made the captain’s deep blue eyes sparkle under his long lashes and Tony’s cold heart melted like spring snow.

“Hi,” said the man with an awkward wave of his hand.

“Hi,” said Tony, because that’s all his brain could think to say in this situation.

“You… um…,” the man stuttered. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more donuts, would you?”

“Out at the moment I’m afraid,” Tony said, relieved that the question didn’t require him to think much. “I can make some more if you’re willing to wait a bit. I promise I’ll be worth it.”

The man’s face lit up. “Oh. Really? You would do that?”

“Sure. It’s my job to keep good looking guys like you well fed,” Tony said with a wink.

The captain looked down at his shoes attempting to hide his grin. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, that’d be really swell.”

“No trouble at all,” Tony said with an easy smile. “It’s the least I can do after you saved us from that ambush back in France.”

The man’s head shot up. “You actually remember that?”

“Hard to forget,” said Tony. “The way you threw that shield, it was like watching a game of billiards in real life. A beautiful understanding of physics if I do say so myself.”

Captain flag’s cheeks turned pink. “It was nothing. Really. You guy had it under control. We just picked off the stragglers. You’re… You guys are really good with guns.”

“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you,” Tony said with an easy smile.

“Why don’t you join the others on the dance floor?” suggested Tony. “Be a lot more fun than standing by a boring truck waiting on little old me.”

The man looked over at Jan spinning circle around a young soldier, but he made no move to go to her. “I’m not really into dancing. Got two left feet.”

“Okay.” Not into dancing. That was fine. There were plenty of other ways for blond and beautiful to amuse himself and stay within Tony’s line of sight. “How about I call one of the girls over for some company? You guys could go in the back and-”

“No!” He yelled. his face turning scarlet. His objection was so loud, a few people on the dance floor stopped and turned toward the donut truck. But when nothing interesting happened, they returned to their business.

Natasha gave Tony a quick look over her full house. Tony gave her a smile and a quick wave. There was nothing to be worry about. Just Tony making awkward conversation with his crush and making an ass out of himself.

The blond man cleared his throat, looking just as uncomfortable as Tony. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to... Thank you but...I’m not interested in ‘that’ kind of company.”

Tony cocked his head to the side. “ ‘That kind of company?’ What are you- Oh! You misunderstand. We don’t go around soliciting sex. The girls are here to remind you of home. Not the girl next door. The Red Cross hires women with degrees so they can engage you in a conversation. Not just… well, you know.”

“Oh. Okay. Thank for telling me,” he said, looking relieved. “But I’m not really interested in spending time with girls.”

“Oh?”

“I’m… actually interested in something else,” he said, the nervous energy around him suddenly coming off in waves.

Tony leaned over the service counter. “Like what?”

“I… um…” the man stammered as he wrung his hands like a towel. “Well, the thing is… I was wondering… if youcouldteachmehowtomakedonuts.”

“Excuse me?” said Tony, not really sure if he heard the request correctly. “You want me to teach you how to make donuts?”

“Yeah,” the man said, wincing at his own request like it was the stupidest thing he could ask for. “They’re really good. Reminds me of home. Think you could show me how?”

Tony was baffled. He didn’t want to spend time talking with Carol, Natasha, or Jan. He wanted to spend time with Tony. Out of all the pretty girls offering their company, out of all the activities they offered from gambling to board games, this man wanted to spend time learning how to make donuts with Tony? “You sure you don’t want me to call over one of the girls to-”

“No. Absolutely not,” he said like this was the most certain he had been about anything in his entire life. “This… you… It’s fine.”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. He had never taught anyone how to make donuts before. Then again, no one had ever asked. “I mean, I guess. I don’t see why not.”

“Great. So, how about now?”

“Now?!”

“No time like the present,” the man said with a confident bounce. “I also don’t know the next time I’ll get to see you so…”

Tony frowned. “It might take you too long to start from scratch. I guess you can help me roll out the dough?”

“Great. Let me wash my hands and then I’ll be right back,” he said, darting off to the washing station.

Tony watched him leave and let out a heavy sigh. Inviting a guy like that with an ass _that_ nice in the back of Tony’s car? This whole thing felt too good to be true. Any second, Tony expected someone to jump out of the bushes and yell, “Surprise! You’re fired,” or worse, he’d wake up. What was he thinking inviting trouble like that?

* * *

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the back door of the truck. Tony opened it and there he was; big, blond, breathtaking, and as stiff as a board.

“Hi,” the captain said.

“Hi,” Tony said.

The man stuck his hand out. “Captain Steve Rogers of the Howling Commandos,” he said as loud and as awkward as a private on the first day with a new title. “I forgot to introduce myself earlier.”

“Anthony Stark,” Tony said as he shook Steve’s hand. “But everybody calls me Tony.”

“Tony,” Steve said and was it just Tony’s imagination or did Steve’s eyes light up when he said Tony’s name. “It suits you.”

Tony felt the blood rush into his cheeks. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Tony said. He moved to the side and welcomed his guest inside the narrow tuck. “It’s small and a bit messy, but feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

Steve jumped into the truck and, goddamn, how big were those shoulders? They took up the entire door.

“So, where should we start?” asked Steve.

“Why don’t we start by deflating the dough,” suggested Tony. He needed something, anything to distract him from ogling how beautiful Steve was up close. Tony reached down and grabbed a metal bowl covered in a white cloth from under the counter. He pulled back the worn towel to reveal a plump, white dough. After a quick poke to the surface, Tony gently plopped the well risen ball onto a well-floured surface.

“Go ahead,” said Tony. He moved away from the workstation. “Give it a quick kneed and knock out some of the air. But not too much. We don’t want to ruin all our work from earlier.”

“Like this?” asked Steve. He cautiously approached the counter and patted the dome of the dough as if he was powdering a baby’s butt.

“A little harder.”

Steve pressed the dome down with three fingers, but only left a light indent in the surface.

“A little more.”

Steve left a slightly deeper indent in the dough

Tony closed his eyes and held back a sigh. He could already tell this was going to be a long lesson. Thank god Steve was cute. “You don’t have to be so gentle. You’re not going to break it.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty strong,” Steve said with a sly smile.

“Then prove  those muscles aren’t just for show. Put your back into it and knead that dough. Like this.” Tony said as he gently pushed Steve out of the way so he could demonstrate.

Tony pressed the dome of the dough down with the heel of his hand. The dough billowed out under the weight like a under inflated ball. He grabbed a small chunk at the bottom of the circle and heald it steady. Pressing the palm of his other hand into the center of the dough, Tony stretched out the glutenous mixture into a rectangular strip. He folded the dough in half and with a quick flick of his wrist, Tony spun the now ovular doug around so it was long in width and short in length. He took hold of the untouched edge closest to him and repeated the process. Stretch, fold, turn. Stretch, fold, turn. He continued this motion a few times and then offered Steve the board.

Steve was still a little hesitant, but with Tony’s guidance Steve started getting the hang of it. Obliviously, he was less practiced than Tony. His hand placement was wrong and his movements were very slow and too deliberate. However, the level of focus and the look of concentration on Steve’s face made Tony wish Steve was a Donut Doll and not another soldier. The way Steve worked with dough was strangely erotic. The more Tony thought about it, the more he realized it wouldn’t be too hard to fill an entire book with with endless passages describing how Steve looked in that moment.

Pages about how Steve’s biceps flexed as they pushed and pulled the dough until it was elastic and smooth to the touch. Long diatrads depicting the small beads of sweat that formed like a crown around his brow, glistening in the flickering light of the food truck. Paragraphs describing how his breath grew heavy and more labored with each push of the dough. Or detailed passages about how his eyes grew dark with intensity as he worked the soft mixture between his fingers.

Tony licked his lips and wondered what it would be like to be on the other end of that look. How hot would Tony feel under such undivided focus? How would those fingers feel wrapped around his hand, his hip, maybe all the way down to the head of his-

“I don’t want to be too cocky, but I think it looks good. What do you think?” asked Steve as he stepped back from the board.

Tony snapped out of his daydream. “Y-yeah. Looks okay,” Tony said, trying hard to focus on the dough and not on the growing hard on in his pants. The dough wasn’t perfect. A bit uneven around the edges, a little too dry because Steve had thrown extra flour on the table, but overall it wasn’t bad for a first try. Tony had done worse during service.

“Now, we have to roll it out and cut it into circles.” Tony grabbed a rolling pin, floured it up, and handed it to Steve. Steve frowned. He twisted the pin around, examining it as if he’d never seen anything like it before. He gave Tony a quick look of, ‘Am I doing this right?’ before taking the wooden pin in both hands and lightly denting the top of the dough.

“Oh my god. Are you even trying? It’s not going to bite.”

Steve winced. “I just don’t want to break it.”

“You won’t. Here.” Tony grabbed the rolling pin out of Steve’s hands and pushed the large man out of the way. “You roll like this.” Tony pressed into the pin and pushed the dough out with ease. He rolled the wooden dowel back and forth with long, practiced strokes. In only a few seconds, the dough had gone from a perfect circle to an elongated rectangle.

“See? Easy.”

“You mean like this?” Steve whispered quietly into Tony’s ear as his strong arms reached around Tony’s smaller frame, wrapping him into a loose hug. Two large hands wrapped around the ends of the rolling pin, effectively trapping Tony’s calloused fingers beneath their warm embrace. Steve pushed the dough out in one long stroke, pressing his large chest against Tony’s back.

Tony muffled a gasp as something hard pressed into the fissure of Tony’s ass.

Steve leaned down. His warm breath brushed the skin of Tony’s ear like a gentle, spring breeze. “Like this?” he asked again. His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if  he was telling Tony a secret.

Tony turned his head and his heart skipped a beat. There he was, right behind him. Captain Steve Rogers of the Howling Commandos was looking at him with eyes so big and blue Tony felt like he could drown in them. Steve bit down on his lip. His pump, pink lips were so close and so tantalizing that Tony could barely suppress the growing need in his stomach to tilt his head and kiss those perfect lips.

“Is this good?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Tony rasped. His heart beat like a drum in his chest as a dormant heat warmed his entire body. “Really good.”

Surprise filled Steve’s eyes. Then, relief. He smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling like Christmas wrapping paper. One hand let go of the rolling pin. Steve reached up as if to touch Tony’s face, but stopped short. Instead, he ran his thumb gently along the length of Tony’s bottom lip, like an artist admiring a work of art. “Think I could have a taste?” asked Steve, licking his lips. “Before they go in the fryer?”

Tony stared up at Steve, frozen in place. This was happening. This was really happening. He had hoped for this, but he dared not wish for it to actually happen. Now that it was, Tony was at a loss for words. “You might regret that,” said Tony, knowing full well that they weren’t talking about donuts anymore. “The air was knocked only a few minutes ago. They’ll be dense and raw and difficult to swallow.”

Steve smiled. “I don’t think I will. I’ve been wanting this since I met you in the forest.”

Tony took a sharp breath. “Really?” he asked, hardly believing his ears.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Beautiful, fluffy, golden brown. I may not be the most well spoken person, but I know what I like.”

And goddamn Tony’s heart melted like a pad of butter on a hot skillet.

“I- I-,” Tony tried to object, come up with a single reason why his fantasy couldn’t become a reality. But no matter how he tried, every excuse evaporated into nothing as Steve leaned toward him.

He was close now. Steve was so tantalizing close. Their bodies were flush against each other like two pieces of a puzzle. The sound of music, laughing, and a harsh reality had faded into the background until it was nothing more than white noise. Every doubt, every logical thought disappeared from his head until all Tony could focus on, all he could feel, was Steve. Steve’s strong arms. Steve’s strong hands. His dark eyes surrounded by long, beautiful golden lashes that any girl would be jealous of. All Tony need now was to feel Steve on his lips.

“If you don’t have any objections,” Steve murmured as his eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll just help myself.” He drifted forward into Tony’s space and Tony, not really able to think of a reason not to, leaned in to meet Steve halfway.

Just as their lips were about to touch, a loud noise broke through the tension. Tony whipped around to the service window just in time to see at least five heads duck down and out of sight.

Tony froze. His stomach dropped. Reality washed over him like a bucket of cold water. He’d been found out. This was the end of everything. He’d be kicked out of the Red Cross without a second thought. Tony couldn’t go back to working for Howard again. He just couldn’t.

Tony pushed against Steve’s chest, trying to free himself from the warm embrace and get as far away as he could. Maybe if there was no evidence, they won’t be able to get rid of him.

But Steve must not have gotten the message about the do’s and don’ts of relationships in the military. His iron grip around Tony’s waist stayed strong. He held Tony in place as if to reassure him that everything was going to be okay and yelled, “If you’re going to listen in, the least you can do is close the damn window.”

At first, nobody answered. Then, Tony heard the sharp sound of angry whispers. When the voices died down, a familiar blond woman rose up from behind the counter. Carol waved at Tony, and embarrassed smile on her face. Tony, scarlessly believing what he was seeing, waved back.

A man Tony didn’t recognize appeared opposite Carol. He had a bowler cap on his head and smug grin on his face. Both reached up and took hold of the metal awning over the service window.

“Told you he’d go for it,” said the man.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Just hurry up and close the window, Dugan.”

Carol gave Tony a wink. “Thanks for the easy money.” Together she and Steve’s friend pulled down the awning and covered the windows of the truck.

Tony was still in shock as his friends locked down the windows from the outside. “What just happened?”

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I should have closed the window on the way in. I just got so excited about finally asking you out that I completely forgot all about it,” Steve said with an awkward laugh. “I knew the guys would try to eavesdrop. I just didn’t expect them to be so sloppy about it.”

Tony just stared wide-eyed at Steve. “They’re not going to report me?” he said, feeling like someone had just knocked the air out of his doughy heart.

“No! Of course not. They’re the ones who dared me to come over here in the first place. I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.” Steve turned his head to the side, trying to hide his embarrassment. “You… uh… you have a way of taking a guy’s breath away.”

Someone banged on the outside of the truck. “That’s just you, ya punk!”

Steve jumped, but it wasn’t out of fear. He covered his face with his hands as his pale cheeks immediately turned scarlet red.

“Oh,” said Tony, the reality of the situation finally dawning on him. Not only was he not in trouble, but Steve liked him. Like, actually liked him the way Tony liked him.

“Oh!”

“Yeah,” said Steve with an embarrassed laugh. “So… you still up for showing me the ropes? Tasting is fine, but I’d really like to learn the ins and outs of making donuts. They seem… really interesting.”

Tony grinned. Oh, they definitely weren’t talking about food anymore. “I’m interested in teaching you. Maybe after a few lessons you can join the donut truck, become partners, maybe even something more? You know, if you’re interested. I hear the benefits are very good,” said Tony, turning the flirt up to eleven. Now that Tony knew Steve was interested and they had a little privacy,  Tony had to make up for his lack of game earlier. Steve was an impressive man in more ways than one. He deserved to be wooed off his ass.

“But before we go any further, I have to ask, how do you like your jelly donuts?”

The tips of Steve’s ears turned red. “I like ‘em as much as the next guy,” Steve said. “I like filling ‘em or being filled. I also like eating out the jelly before eating the donut if you know what I mean.”

Tony grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun. He wrapped his arms around the back of Steve’s neck, seductively grinding his hips against the growing bulge in Steve’s pants to capture his ‘attention’. “In that case, I’ll give you a private lesson. We got a tent on the far side of camp just for these kinds of situations.”

Steve chuckled. “I thought you said you guys didn’t sell sex?”

“We don’t,” admitted Tony. “But that doesn’t mean we abstain from ‘personal’ recreational activities.”

Steve smiled. “In that case, lead the way. Show me the world’s most delicious donut and I’ll show you mine, Mister Stark.”

“Captain Rogers, it would be my pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment for Cachette [[here]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19012741) and let them know how much you love their art.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sweet-tooth [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19012741) by [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/pseuds/Cachette)




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